Page 48 of Second Chances (Passion and Perseverance #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Beth closed her eyes as soon as she got into the safety of Darcy’s car.

God, Darcy.

Now alone, the emotions that she’d crushed up and locked away inside, broke free; pain unraveling in her chest at the thought of him.

How could he not have told her?

Eyes closed, she saw his stoic face staring back at her in her mind, his expression warming as the color and detail drained from his face, slowly transforming his visage into that of Caroline’s work.

Beth’s eyes shot open.

Would she ever escape the shock and pain at seeing the drawing? Would she ever stop imagining the scene from which it was made and the events that probably preceded or followed it?

Strangely, she wasn’t mad. She knew why he didn’t tell her; it was the same reason for everything that he did - to protect her.

At first, it would have made no difference if she had known that his ex was Caro or not.

Caroline wasn’t present in their lives and aside from Jane’s wedding, it would have been a rare occasion that they would have been in the same location, let alone the same country.

Telling her from the start would have only made it awkward for her; it would have made her feel obligated to tell Jane.

Ok, not obligated, but she probably would have told her sister out of anger at how Caroline had treated Darcy.

And then Jane would have had to live with that decision, that knowledge, about her husband’s sister .

Even after Caro approached him and began threatening her, her heart clenched at the memory of how he had wanted to handle everything on his own.

True, it was typical of him to act that way, but this time was different.

He wanted to handle it on his own to spare her from having to choose between him and Jane, because that it what it would have come down to; either she would refuse to be in Caro’s company, thereby alienating her sister, or refuse to alleviate Darcy’s concerns and hurt him by deliberating putting herself in a position of potential harm in order to support Jane.

He probably was afraid of who your choice would have been.

He shouldn’t have been; he would have been her choice.

Here her thoughts paused as the car pulled up at the back entrance to the hotel. Beth got out, in a daze, but stopped short of entering the elevator. She needed a minute to think, a minute alone to process, and she had barely just gotten that; she needed a plan before confronting Darcy.

Pulling out her phone, she opened up a text to him,

~ Are you home?

- Not yet. I’m still out with Charles. I’ll be a little yet.

~ Ok

- Everything ok?

~I’ll see you soon.

- Can’t wait. God, how I miss you, gorgeous.

Before she could stop it, her mind wondered if he used to say that to Caroline and she instantly felt the piercing sting slicing through her heart. She didn’t even know how to feel - hurt, angry, upset, grateful?

Not now, Beth.

Stepping into the elevator, she let out a shaky sigh safe in the knowledge that she would have the apartment to herself when it arrived at its destination .

Beth stopped short, crossing the threshold into the apartment, the extreme silence inside a stark contrast to the deafening commotion of the thoughts inside her head clamoring for attention.

In a fog, she set her things down, walking into the kitchen to grab a water bottle before returning to the entryway, unsure of where to go; the bedroom was too passionate, the living room, too open, and the office was Darcy’s space.

Somehow, she wound up at the end of the hall, gingerly placing her hand on the doorknob to Darcy’s studio.

She didn’t know what drew her to this room; she hadn’t even been back inside it since that night, but she knew that Darcy hadn’t locked it since then.

Confirmed by the full extension of the handle, Beth opened the door into his sanctuary.

She felt a twinge of guilt, as though she was invading his privacy, but for some reason, in here, she felt an immeasurable sense of intimacy and clarity.

Here, she felt that there were no barriers between her and Darcy.

Or maybe, she ended here because she was searching, searching for any reciprocating sign of Caro in Darcy’s work.

Her eyes began to scan the works scattered along the sides of the room before her mind told her she was foolish for doing so.

Now is not the time.

Sitting on the couch, she closed her eyes, remembering for a moment the last time she had sat here. It brought her back to why she had been sitting there in the first place - because Caro had approached Darcy at Renée’s party.

Everything made so much more sense now. Why Caro had approached her first, why she’d questioned her about her date, why she felt like Caro had been continually watching her, and why Darcy had needed to leave right away - not just because he was angry and in shock, but because every moment longer they stayed, brought a greater chance of Beth finding out the connection between Caro and Darcy .

Staring off into the room, Beth’s eyes opened to all of the ramifications of what she had just learned.

It was no wonder that Darcy had been insistent on trying to deal with Caro on his own and resisting any suggestion of obtaining some sort of restraining order.

Even now, Beth struggled with how to tell Jane.

What would have happened if she did pursue legal action?

What would that have done to Jane, to their relationship?

To her relationship with Charles, knowing that their sisters could never be in the same place at the same time?

Even now, how were they supposed to be in the same place? In the same wedding?

God, this is so fucked up.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to be mad at Darcy for his relationship with Caro, for not telling her.

Everyone has a past; stop being jealous and self-conscious.

He should have told me.

Should he? Look at where you are now; look at what you are going to have to put Jane through.

“Beth?”

Her head jerked up, blinking a few times until Darcy was in focus. This was the first time she’d been so consumed with her thoughts that even her body’s response to him had been muted.

“Beth, what’s wrong?” he asked urgently, walking intently over to her and kneeling in front of her.

Beth couldn't even find the words to speak; she didn’t know where to start. Everything felt like a daze around her; Darcy’s concerned face morphing into Caro’s representation of it. She quickly shut her eyes and turned her face away.

Darcy raised both of his hands to grasp her face, his thumbs wiping away tears she hadn’t known were even falling. Beth bit her lip, frustrated as more of them forced their way through her closed eyelids and down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Beth? What is it?” Darcy asked again, his voice hard as granite, fearing the worst.

Taking a deep breath, Beth opened her glazed eyes to him again.

“It’s her, Darcy,” she whispered. “ It’s Caroline. ”

The second or two that followed seemed to pass in slow motion. Beth watched as every emotion painstakingly took its turn crossing Darcy’s face.

First, the slight furrow of confusion in his brow dissolving as the realization that Beth finally knew became clear.

His muscles tensing and contorting with a mixture of pain and anger that burned in his gaze; a gaze that left hers only a moment later, but not before she saw the hint of shame breaking through his rigid composure.

“How did you find out?” he asked, his words low and harsh, breaking through the trance-like shock brought on by her admission.

“I don’t…does it matter?” she whispered, pained by the memory.

“ I swear to God, if she fucking did something to you…” he swore vehemently, his hand moving under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“No! No… she didn’t do anything. She doesn’t know; she doesn’t know that I know.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes boring into hers, assessing whether or not she was telling the truth.

“Then how do you know?”

“At Jane’s party, I went into her bedroom and I saw,” Beth began, her voice cracking partway through the sentence, “I saw a drawing on her wall… a drawing of you. No, a naked drawing of you on her wall.” A small, bitter laugh accompanied her last statement, as if she couldn’t believe that the words were even coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that the words were true.

“God dammit,” he spat, standing up and stalking away from her, hands clenching at his sides, unable to watch the pain he had caused play over her beautifully sad face.

Beth watched helplessly as he stalked over to one of the still life canvases propped up against the wall and put his fist right through the middle of it; the tearing and cracking of the canvas dissolved her paralysis.

“Darcy, stop!” she yelled, standing up from the couch .

Her sudden outburst surprised him. He turned around to be confronted by her tear struck and emotionally stricken face, self-loathing quickly overpowering his rage.

“ Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He began to walk back towards her but stopped himself short, paralyzed with the thought that anything he did was only going to hurt her worse. Beth watched as he sat down on the stool in front of the drawing he had started of her, dropping his head into his hands.

“Why are you here?” he groaned. “Shouldn’t you have left me by now?”

“I’m not leaving you!” she yelled, frustrated by how little faith he continually showed in her. “God, I’m just in shock and upset that you didn’t tell me.”

“God, I wanted to,” he said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I even tried, but then I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. First, I know she’s your client and I know how important your job is to you; what would you have done, Beth? Continue to work with her, knowing who she was?”